


On Your Shoulders

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1414273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s not like Nate’s been living in a cave. He knows about Seth Jones. But knowing about someone is different than playing against them.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>A story of long-distance friendship. Written for the <a href="http://hockey-rbb.livejournal.com/">Hockey RBB</a>, with art by darling Ceares that can be found <a href="http://ceares.dreamwidth.org/21385.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Your Shoulders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ceares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceares/gifts).



> A day late and a dollar short seems to be the theme of this challenge for me. So, ~~a day late~~ two days late and a dollar short, here it is!!
> 
> A thousand thanks to Ceares for creating such beautiful art for these two and giving me the kickstart I needed to start writing for them, and also put up with me being basically incommunicado for most of the challenge. I can only hope they like what I created.
> 
> An additional thousand and one thanks to the ever brilliant [Lizzy](buchananrogers.tumblr.com) who hand-held me through the end of the writing of this piece, and then beta-ing it into something acceptable. She is a goddess among betas and this would not be half as good without her.
> 
> Ten thousand thanks to the organizers of the [Hockey RBB](http://hockey-rbb.livejournal.com/); I had a ton of fun working on the challenge, and I wouldn't have been able to if they hadn't put up with me almost missing deadlines left and right. You are stars among stars and I appreciate all you do for us!!
> 
> Okay, that should be enough. On to the fic!!

_Memorial Cup_

It’s not like Nate’s been living in a cave. He knows about Seth Jones. But knowing about someone is different than playing against them, and there’s something so damn _beautiful_ about Jones’s game that leave him stunned speechless more often than he wants to admit. It’s not even the grin on his face as he breezes into the Winterhawks bench less than a minute after Nate had assisted on Martin’s goal, though that does leave Nate staring at him, eyes stuck on the sheer joy on his face. It’s something else. Something more.

He wants to say he’s not sure what it is about that game that drives him even higher, that gets him the hat trick, but he knows better. It’s the look of quiet contemplation he catches on Jones’s face as Nate flies to the bench, hauling himself over the boards at the end of a shift. It’s the intensity in the lines of his body as he waits for puck drop outside the circle, ready to do whatever it takes. It’s the certainty in his stride when he hovers at the blue line, keeping way more pucks in than Nate thinks is possible. It’s every damn thing about Jones that leaves him wanting to play better than he ever has before.

So he does.

\--

He finds Jones after the game, wanting more than anything else to talk to him. Wanting, inexplicably, to thank him. The ‘Hawks don’t seem at all keen on letting him near their star d-man, but Jones just gives a lopsided smirk and gets to his feet.

“It’s cool, guys,” and then he’s ushering Nate out of the locker room and leaning up against the wall beside it, arms crossed.

Suddenly, faced with Jones, Nate can’t find the words he wants.

Jones quirks an eyebrow at him. “You wanted to talk?”

“You’re amazing.”

Jones’s other eyebrow shoots up in surprise. “Thank you. So are you.”

“That goal in the first-- and the way you-- I mean, seriously, Jones--”

“Seth.”

Nate stops. “Sorry?”

“Call me Seth. Goodness knows they’re gonna throw us together in the combine, we might as well be on first name terms.”

Nate finds himself nodding before the last of the words are out of Seth’s mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Seth. Awesome.”

Seth laughs a little, sounding plenty amused. “Was that all?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I guess? I just. You’re a hell of a player. I wish I could’ve played against you more.”

Seth’s face goes a little soft. “With any luck, we’ll get to dance this dance again soon.” Nate’s nodding even as Seth’s turning away. “Good luck, kid.”

Nate can’t even be insulted enough to remind Seth that he has a name too.

\--

He plays his heart out the next day, but it’s not enough. He wonders for a brief second if it’ll ever be enough, the way it was yesterday, with Seth on the other side of the ice from him. But that’s ridiculous; he’s never needed a rival, never needed anyone to push him higher than he pushes himself, than Crosby’s shadow has pushed him. He’ll get his feet under him again. He’s just tired.

That’s all.

He’s sure of it.

\--

The empty netter and the repeat hat trick a week later are just icing. He’s not thinking of Seth when he goes diving into the bench, the whole team trying to get a piece of him while the crowd screams. He’s thinking of Jo and the rest of the guys, and, really, that’s all that should matter right now. A part of him knows this is just another stepping stone, just another piece of the puzzle, but the rest of him know there’s nothing more than this right now. Nothing but the crush of his teammates and the thrill of imminent victory that has him screaming himself hoarse.

The rest? That’ll come later.

\--

Seth’s the one that finds him later, looking tired, but like a man on a mission. He reaches a hand out for Nate as though on autopilot.

“Hell of a game, MacKinnon.”

“Nate,” he corrects automatically, clasping Seth’s hand in his own. “And same to you.”

Seth shrugs. “Not good enough.”

“Bullshit.”

Seth looks surprised. “I’m sorry?”

Nate doesn’t know what gives him the gall to talk this way to a guy he barely knows, but something in him drives him to speak. “It’s a team sport. Always has been. Not even Sidney Crosby can carry a team on his shoulders alone. We don’t win games by ourselves, and we don’t lose them either.”

Seth stares at him. Then he holds out his hand again, palm up. “Give me your phone.”

The non-sequitur leaves Nate blinking. “What?”

“Your phone. Give it to me. I’m gonna put my number in. Might as well get to know each other before the combine.”

Nate feels the grin creeping over his face as he hands the phone over. “Sure thing.”

_Interlude--June_

_Not playing sucks._

_ugh i kno_

_I hope you don’t write the way you text._

_not all the time_

_It’s a good thing you’re a hockey player. You’d get nowhere in academia._

_u wish u had my brains_

_Only when I’m playing against you. That’s literally the only time I’d ever want to be inside your head._

Nate’s not quite sure how to respond to that. So he deflects instead.

_hows ur training going?_

_Draft_

It’s not a surprise that they room the two of them together. Seth had seen it coming ages ago, and Nate really should have even without Seth’s certainty. It’s all publicity at this point, facing them off against each other, like they want anything but the best for each other.

A few hours after Nate had dragged his stuff in and shooed his mom away, hoping for whatever time he could snatch with Seth, he’s still alone. He had to plug his phone in ages ago, and he feels like he’s waiting for something that’s never going to come the way he wants it to.

And then the door opens.

Seth blinks when he sees Nate, face filtering through a range of emotions. Eventually it settles on a bemused sort of affection, like he knows how long Nate’s been there. He turns over his shoulder and says something quiet to his dad. Mr. Jones nods at Nate, and Nate nods back, smile feeling a little shaky on his lips, and then he’s gone, and Nate and Seth are alone.

Seth tosses his bag on the unoccupied bed, hands loose at his sides. “Been waiting long?”

The question’s rhetorical, but Nate feels the blush rising in his neck as he ducks his gaze away.

Seth laughs, dropping down on his bed and tucking his legs up underneath him. “Nervous?”

“Incredibly,” Nate breathes out, relieved for the out.

“You shouldn’t be. Colorado hasn’t made a secret of what they’re going to do.”

Nate bites his lip. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Seth rolls his eyes, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Nate. “Quit being so melodramatic and let’s go get something to eat.”

\--

Nate isn’t ashamed of the way he crawls in next to Seth barely ten minutes after they get back from dinner with their families, or the way he steals one of his headphones and tucks it into his ear. Seth rolls his eyes before closing them, but the affectionate smile is back. It’s almost an hour later before Seth finally speaks, voice soft and drowsy.

“Nothing to worry about, Nate,” he murmurs. “You’ll show them all.”

“Show them what?” Nate asks, not quite sure why he’s whispering right back.

“That you’re just as much a hockey player as Crosby is. You’re just your own man too.”

Nate blinks, staring at Seth and feeling, somehow, like he’s seeing him for the first time. “And you? Who are you trying to show?”

“All of ‘em. Show ‘em I’m the player they think I am. Show ‘em that I’m just as good.”

Nate opens his mouth to ask, but cuts himself off a second before he does. Because he doesn’t need to. They both know there’s more than just the desire for a forward driving Sakic to make the decision he is.

So Nate just nods. “Okay.”

\--

He wakes up an hour before breakfast, still in Seth’s bed. He thinks about moving and pretending he didn’t spend the night there for all of a minute before closing his eyes again.

He’s not ashamed of needing to take comfort from someone who’s under at least as much pressure as he is.

\--

The prospect breakfast is easy and amiable in a way that Nate’s grateful for, Seth grinning and laughing two tables over. Nate can’t quite keep his eyes away from him, and his mom’s grinning at him like she knows what he’s thinking. Jo’s smirking at him from his other side to boot, and Nate doesn’t even want to think what the two of them would say if they knew he’d spent the night in Seth’s bed last night. Though, Jo would probably just want to know if sleeping was all they did. Ugh.

It has him blushing and hiding his head. Like it’ll make any difference.

\--

They'd known it was going to happen. Seth had known and, on some level, Nate had known too. They'd known. And that's the worst part, somehow.

Still, Nate feels a twinge of guilt as he pulls the jersey over his head. It should've been Seth. It should've--

But it wasn't. And there's nothing they can do about it.

Still, even as they usher him through the interviews and into the green room at the back, he knows Seth will be following him in just a few minutes, and that makes it all a bit more bearable.

So when he sees someone heading back in that red Panthers jersey, he’s all smiles, ready to share this with Seth.

Except it isn’t Seth.

It’s Barkov.

The guilt surges back up, stronger now, leaving Nate a little sick to his stomach. Surely. _Surely_ they didn’t pass up on Seth?

But they did, because that’s not Seth’s gait, that’s not Seth’s stance, that’s not… that’s not _Seth_.

Nate can feel himself shaking, can feel Sakic beside him with a hand on his elbow, asking him if he’s okay.

“Fine. I’m fine.”

And he is, he’s fine, Tampa will take Seth, he’ll be back here soon enough, because no team would be dumb enough to--

Jo looks as confused as Nate feels when he makes it back to the green room, and even though Nate breaks away from Sakic and jumps for him automatically, slinging his arms around Jo’s neck, the laughter that comes from his throat is stilted and uncertain.

“Never thought I’d go before him,” Jo mutters, looking anywhere but Nate.

Nate nods, eyes darting away from Jo. “Honestly?” he whispers, “me neither.”

Jo nods. “I know he’s kind of your boy now, but. I mean. Are you…?”

Nate rolls his eyes, clapping Jo on the shoulder. “Of course I’m still pumped for you, dumbass. You deserve this.”

Jo looks him straight in the eyes. “You just think he deserved it more.”

Nate’s quiet for a moment. “I think he deserved better than to drop out of the top three.”

Jo nods. “Agreed.”

Jo waits for a long moment, then reaches down and laces his fingers with Nate’s while they wait for Seth to join them.

They don’t have to wait long, and Nate’s slipping his hand from Jo’s grip the second he catches sight of Seth in Preds yellow. He shoots across the green room to grab for Seth, hand tight around his bicep.

“Seth, you know I--”

But Seth just shakes his head. “Don’t, Nate. Just don’t.”

Nate bites his lip; he knows that tone. That’s the I’m-in-media-mode tone. He has one too, though he knows his is nowhere near as smooth as Seth’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sure thing. I--” he swallows. “Congratulations?”

He doesn’t mean for it to sound like as much of a question as it does.

\--

Nate manages to break away from his family early enough in the evening to beat Seth back to their shared room. He hesitates, hovering between their beds, before chickening out and crawling into the bed that had been designated as his. Still, he’s not quite scared enough to keep from turning toward the door, and the bed that Seth will likely fall into the second he gets back. It feels manipulative, but he has to know… he has to _know_.

His courage fails him, though, when the door clicks open a few hours later. He can hear Seth murmuring to his parents. Suddenly uncertain, Nate fakes sleep, and tries to wait Seth out.

Seth moves quietly, like he believes Nate’s asleep. Nate can hear him stripping out of his suit and moving around a little more before settling on the bed. Nate fights to keep his breathing steady even as his heart rate kicks up a few notches.

“Nate?” Seth murmurs.

Nate sucks in a sharp breath, giving himself away. When he opens his eyes, it’s to see Seth seated on the bed facing him, hands clasped between his knees. “Yeah?”

“I don’t blame you.”

Nate stares at him, trying to read his face in the dark. “Say that without your media voice, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Seth shifts his weight, and is quiet for a long moment. Then, voice shaking a little, he says, “I don’t blame _you_.”

Nate sits up. “Better. Try one more time.”

Seth blows a breath out his nose. “I don’t blame you, but that was _bullshit_.”

Nate nods. “Good. Because it fucking was.”

Seth shakes his head. “It was bullshit, but the worst part is that… I wasn’t even surprised.”

That catches Nate by surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“This whole sport is just… I mean, it’s bullshit, but I wasn’t even _surprised_ , Nate. I should at least get to dream that they’ll treat me as well as they treat you.”

It takes Nate longer than he’s proud of to connect the dots, but the second he does that queasiness comes back. “They’ll treat you right in Nashville.”

Seth shrugs. “I know they will. It’s just a matter of whether they’ll treat me well enough to make up for how utterly _fucked_ it is that I went fourth just because--” He swallows, shaking his head. “It’s fucked up, Nate.”

When Nate reaches for him, it’s automatic and easy. When Seth goes from tense to collapsing against him, he wonders just how hard he must be taking it.

He figures now isn’t the time to ask.

_Interlude--Sid_

It takes roughly four hours for Nate to get up the guts to ask. He knows time will just make him less willing to be brave; now’s the moment to take a chance and see if he’s right in thinking Sid can understand.

“How’d Jack take it?”

Sid frowns for a moment before he seems to connect the dots. “Going third?” Nate nods, and Sid shrugs at him. “Honestly, I think he was sort of expecting it.”

Nate’s chest clenches at the thought. “You… didn’t feel bad about it?”

“About going first? Not at all. I’m good, Nate, and so are you. We deserved it.”

“Not more than they did. At least, I don’t know if I deserved it more than Seth.”

Sid shakes his head. “Jones is good, I’m not denying that. Florida and Tampa were stupid not to take him. But he’ll have Shea where he is, and honestly it’s probably a better fit for him anyway. He’s going to do great things there, Nate, you’ll see. And you’ll do great things too.”

Nate nods, but doesn’t quite believe him.

Sid seems to catch on, and sighs, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “I’ll race you up the dunes, yeah?”

When he goes tumbling to the ground minutes later, Nate lets himself believe, for a minute, that Sid’s right.

It doesn’t last.

_Rough Landing_

_September_

His phone is filled to bursting with texts from Jo and Seth both all through training camp, and it’s what gets him through it in a lot of ways. Training camp is so much more intense than anything he’s used to, and as the guys start to drop off, getting sent back down, the reality of what he’s gotten himself into starts to dawn on him.

He thinks, sometimes, about texting Sid. But Sid’s been at this so much longer that he’s pretty sure that’s more likely to intimidate him than help him. So he sticks to Jo and Seth and their shared exuberance instead.

That lasts right up until Jo calls him up, voice muffled and upset.

“Jo?”

“ _They… I’m not playing this year._ ”

Nate sucks in a breath, the reality of their position more real than it’s been at all before now. “What?”

“ _They sent me down, Nate. I just._ Fuck _. I thought they actually wanted me this year._ ”

Nate makes a sympathetic sound while his own stomach churns. “They wanted you, Jo. Still do. They wouldn’t have taken you third overall if they didn’t. They just… they must just want to let you grow into your body a little more.”

“ _Bullshit, Nate. That’s bullshit and you know it._ ”

Nate sighs. “I don’t know what to say, Jo. You’re good, we both know you’re good. They just… they just don’t think you’re ready yet."

Jo doesn’t say anything for a long time. “ _I just. This was supposed to be our year, Nate, y’know?_ ”

The wounded sound pulls itself from Nate’s throat automatically. “Jo--”

“ _It’s cool, Nate. We both know you’re the better player._ ”

“But _Jo_ \--”

“ _Nate. Just. Just show them all who’s boss, okay? Show them how wrong they are on the ice._ ”

“Yeah,” Nate mutters. “Yeah, you too.”

\--

His thumb hovers over Seth’s name for a long time, and he can’t decide whether to call or text. In the end, he texts a noncommittal _you busy?_

_Not really. What’s up?_

Biting his lip, Nate taps Seth’s number before he can think better of it.

“ _Nate?_ ”

“Seth.” Nate struggles for a long minute, unsure where to start.

“ _Nate._ ” His voice is soft. “ _Nate, what’s wrong?_ ”

“Jo got sent down.”

Seth makes a sympathetic noise, and Nate hears a door close somewhere down the phone line. “ _How’s he taking it?_ ”

“Hard, I think.”

“ _How are_ you _taking it?_ ”

Nate blinks. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“ _Nate. Be honest here. You wouldn’t have called me if you weren’t upset._ ”

It rocks Nate to his core to hear the reasoning laid out so openly and clearly. “I’m just. I’m worried, Seth.”

“ _That?_ ”

“That they’ll send me down too. They picked me, but what if I don’t live up to their expectations? What if I’m not good enough? What if--”

“ _Nate. Slow down. Breathe. You’re getting yourself worked up over what-ifs and worries. That’s only going to make your play suffer. If you want to prevent anything like that, you’ve just got to stick to what you know and what you’re good at._ ”

“But--”

“ _You’re good, Nate._ ” Seth’s voice is low and calming. Reassuring. “ _You’re a better player than Drouin. And, let’s be honest here, Colorado needs you more than Tampa needed him. You’re good, Nate. It shows in every inch of your play. You just have to believe it and prove it to them._ ”

Nate closes his eyes. “Say it one more time.”

Seth doesn’t even hesitate, just says the words with every ounce of conviction Nate doesn’t have. “ _You’re good, Nate._ ”

Nate lets out a heavy breath. “You are too, Seth.”

He can almost see Seth nodding down the phone line. “ _We’ll show ‘em all just how right they were to pick us._ ”

Nate smiles. “Damn right.”

\--

It’s his first game.

It’s his first game and he gets two assists.

It’s his first game and he’s +1.

It’s his first game and it’s a blowout.

It’s his first game and as bad as he wants to call Seth, it’s late, and Seth has a game tomorrow. This can wait. Nate can wait. For, Seth, at least, he’ll learn to wait.

Which is why he’s surprised when his phone rings just inside of an hour after the end of the game.

“Seth?”

“ _Hey._ ” He sounds tired, but pleased. “ _Quite the game you played tonight, Nate._ ”

The smile is automatic and familiar. “Yeah?”

“ _Hell yeah._ ”

Nate feels his smile widen. “You gonna show them all who’s boss tomorrow?”

“ _Damn right I am._ ” The smile is evident in his voice.

“Good. Now go to sleep, genius.”

Seth makes a displeased sound. “ _Had to stay up to see your game, didn’t I?_ ”

Nate blinks. “Yeah?”

“ _Yeah._ ”

For a moment, neither of them speaks. Then Nate murmurs a quiet, “Well, okay then.”

He stays on the line until Seth’s breathing evens out.

\--

Nate waits a little longer than Seth did the next night, wondering if he’d rather be out commiserating with his team than talking to Nate. But in the end he mans up and calls him anyway.

“ _Nate?_ ”

Nate swallows. “Hey.”

He can almost hear Seth rolling his eyes down the line. “ _Come on, Nate. No one here’s that surprised._ ”

“But you--”

“ _Are one player. I wasn’t going to be enough to change everything._ ”

“You’re taking this better than I was expecting.”

“ _It sucks, yeah, but it’s part of the game. We can’t all be winners all the time._ ”

Nate swallows again. “Still. You played a hell of a game.”

“ _You’re damn right I did._ ”

The tightness in Nate’s chest eases a little. “Good. As long as you know that.”

“ _I do._ ”

“Okay. Then go out and be with your team.”

Seth just laughs.

_October_

His blood’s singing the second PA’s goal hits home. He’s laughing as he goes crashing into the hug, arms tight around the team that’s already starting to feel just as much like family as the Mooseheads did at the beginning. It’s the easy sort of camaraderie that comes from bag skates and shootout drills, gym cooldowns and carboloading. It’s close and easy and constant and in some ways it’s all that’s holding him together with the way Jo has been overly careful with his words for the last week.

Still, looking across the ice and seeing Seth there, face tight with the familiar worry that comes from being scored on so late in a period twists something in Nate’s gut.

He comes out of the game even and almost lets the guys drag him out for dinner and drinks, but begs off at the last second. He jogs around to the Visitors locker room, hovering outside uncertainly until the door bangs open and one of the Preds comes out in his suit.

He wrinkles his nose at Nate, but turns over his shoulder, shouting “Jonesy! Your buddy’s here!” back into the locker room.

A moment later, Seth comes out from behind his teammate, adjusting his tie as he does. There’s a lightness to his step that Nate wouldn’t have expected coming off a loss like that, and a smile that settles worry Nate didn’t know was lingering in his gut. He smiles back, helpless in the face of Seth’s easy confidence.

Seth laughs at whatever he sees on Nate’s face. “So? Where you taking me?”

Nate shrugs. “Just somewhere close. Something easy, I figured.”

Seth grins. “That’s the best way to do it. Just wait ‘til you come out to Nashville. I’ve already got some of the best places scoped out.”

Nate laughs, startled. “Already?”

“Hell yes,” Seth’s grin widens as he slings his arm over Nate’s shoulders. “I can’t wait to show you.”

Nate grins back. “Me neither.”

\--

The thing is, Seth seems to be settling into the skin of an NHL player so much more easily than Nate is. Seth's blasting his way into the league, playing over 20 minutes in four of his first five games, while Nate... Nate feels like he’s kind of limping his way in. He tries to keep his head on straight about it; it’s not that he’s not producing, it’s just. It’s not Juniors any more. This is for real.

Maybe he’s in over his head.

Then he scores against the Caps and, for a second, he’s on top of the world again. Except then he sees the boxscore from the Preds game and his stomach sinks a little because it’s the Memorial Cup all over again.

Seth scored tonight too.

He lets his thumb hover over Seth’s name on his phone for a solid five minutes, wanting to call to congratulate him, before chickening out and calling Jo instead.

He can practically hear the way Jo’s rolling his eyes at him from across the border, all carefulness evaporating in light of Nate’s sudden bout of self-doubt. “ _Oh my god, Nate, get_ over _yourself. He’s a Defenseman, of_ course _he’s playing more minutes than you. And what do you mean you’re not producing? Did you or did you not have two points in that Anaheim game? And again tonight?_ And _you scored your first goal. It may have taken you five games, but that’s a hell of a lot less than it would’ve taken the rest of us_.”

Nate just shakes his head. “Seth scored tonight too.”

Jo’s quiet for a solid minute before he finally says, “ _You’re not doing either of you any favors by comparing yourself to him_.”

Nate hangs up.

\--

_congrats on the goal tonight_

_Thanks. You too!_

Nate bites his lip hard and doesn’t reply.

_November_

They meet up again a month later, almost to the day, with different results. Nate’s skin feels too-tight, and he knows, somewhere, that what his team’s been doing is almost unheard of, knows that the winning had to end sometime. But for his second NHL loss to be to Seth’s team...

Well. When he stops and thinks about it, there’s a sort of rightness to it.

Still, there’s a squirming in his stomach that leaves him sulking and he considers not even going to see Seth.

But then Gabe’s poking his head into the locker room after leaving and frowning at Nate.

“Nate? Did you…”

And Nate knows what Gabe isn’t saying, and the apprehension evaporates immediately. “Yeah. Yeah, tell him I’ll be right out.”

Gabe’s face softens, and he nods. “You got it, kid.”

Nate rolls his eyes and pulls his suit on quickly, feeling himself trying too hard to look presentable. Duchy’s laughing at him, but Nate ignores him.

Seth held himself up with grace on this side of a loss. The least Nate can do is meet him with the same poise.

Seth looks wary when Nate makes his way out the door, and, suddenly, Nate wonders if this is how Seth felt last time. Wonders if this is how Seth was able to take the loss with so much grace a month ago. Because the second he sees Seth, nothing else seems to matter.

Nate grins. “Hell of a game, Seth.”

Seth relaxes minutely, and Nate feels his grin widen. “Back at you.”

Nate nods. “So. Dinner?”

Seth just nods. “That sounds perfect.”

_January_

Nate’s not entirely sure what set Cody and Nystrom off, but it has him on edge the rest of the game. Not enough to take him off his game, but enough that his teeth ache from clenching them too long and hard. Coach is cautiously optimistic at first intermission, a little bit harsher during the second, and absolutely _on_ them throughout the back half of third. It has Nate’s blood thrumming and a tension floating under his skin when he showers and puts his suit back on.

Duchy’s eyeing him a little strangely as he makes his way out the door, but Nate ignores him. Duchy always looks at him weird.

Seth’s waiting outside with a half-hearted smile on his face when Nate finally makes it out of the locker room.

“Nice job out there.”

Nate grins. “Thanks. You too.”

Seth shrugs. “Dinner?”

“You promised me Nashville’s best.”

Seth laughs, shoulders relaxing from a tension Nate hadn’t noticed. “Did I?”

Nate grins. “Something to that effect.”

Seth’s shoulders draw up slightly again. “You don’t think that’d be weird?”

Nate blinks. “What would be weird?”

“Just doing dinner again. I mean, if you want to--”

“No!” The word’s out of his mouth before Nate’s even really thought about it. “No, it wouldn’t be weird at all. Dinner sounds… dinner sounds nice.”

Seth relaxes, his face going soft. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Nate grins back.

_February_

He holes up with Jo for the Olympics, grateful for the easy way Jo reaches for him and for the break from the pressure of the team. _His_ team. Because yeah, he misses Halifax, but he also has a new home now, a place where he’s part of the franchise, part of a playoff push, part of _the NHL_. It’s what he’s always wanted, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy there.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still miss this home sometimes too.

It’s simple to fall back into the patterns of Halifax--up to and including the driving Jo around bit--and easy to let the euphoria of Canada’s success in the games carry him through the days. Texts to Seth are few and far between until the US-Canada game where he has to resist the urge to get him on Skype and watch it with him. He can practically see Seth rolling his eyes should he suggest it.

So instead they text all through the game, chirping each other the whole time, right up until Seth goes mysteriously silent after Nate’s _sorry ur guys couldn’t finish_ when the final score is announced. It takes a solid ten minutes for Nate to realize something is wrong and text a curious _seth?_ back to him.

It takes another minute, but he finally answers with a _Yeah, yeah, whatever Nate. Just hope your boys don’t fuck up the final._ Nate breathes a little easier after that.

He does actually call Seth up when the US loses to Finland, sympathetic words on his tongue, but the second Seth picks up he says “Don’t, Nate. Just don’t.”

Nate blinks. “I was just--”

“I don’t care, Nate. Please just don’t.”

Nate swallows. “Your boys did what they could.”

Seth snorts. “Kane was the only one that fucking showed up to that game, alright? It was a fucking embarrassment.”

“But--”

“Just don’t, Nate. Please.”

“...Okay. So how’s Ann Arbor?”

Seth’s quiet, grateful sigh is all Nate needs to know it’s the right segue.

_March_

When he hears about Seth going down, Nate feels his whole body go tight. They’re playing the Preds in two days and the last thing he wants is for Seth to be injured.

Well, that’s the last thing he wants for _anyone_ at _any_ point, especially with the way Hertl’s been out basically all season, but for it to be _Seth_...

It takes almost twenty minutes with Jiggy’s kids to calm himself down enough to stop shaking.

\--

“Seth?”

Nate’s blood is singing from the win, but he tries to tamp down on it in deference to Seth, keeping his voice low. All the lights are off in his room, but Mrs. Jones had let him in with a sad, tired sort of smile, and Nate had hoped, briefly, that this wasn’t as bad as most concussions seem to be. That maybe they could keep with tradition and go out anyway.

Instead, Seth just kind of whimpers, and Nate shuts the door behind him as quickly and quietly as possible; “Sorry, sorry.”

“S’okay,” Seth mumbles, and Nate can hear the sheets shifting as he moves around in the bed. “‘S the game over?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d my boys do?” He’s sounding more awake by the moment.

“Damn good.”

“Yeah? They kick your sorry asses?”

Nate laughs softly. “They tried. We went to a shootout.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Still,” Seth sighs, sheets rustling again, “at least we got the point.”

Nate smiles. “Small victories.”

Nate’s eyes have adjusted just enough for him to see Seth beckoning him over. “Don’t just stand there, idiot. Come over here and talk to me.”

Nate nods, crossing over and settling on the bed.

“You should’ve seen them, though. It was… it was a hell of a game.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” and Nate doesn’t bother trying to stop himself from spinning stories of every highlight-reel worthy play from Seth’s team tonight.

And then.

Maybe it’s the win. Maybe it’s the number of faceoffs he won tonight. Maybe it’s being in Seth’s town instead of his, or Seth’s concussion, or knowing there’s no way they’re going out tonight. Maybe it’s something as simple as the darkness. But something about the alignment of events makes him feel more drawn to Seth more than he ever has before. With his eyes only half adjusted, the tiny smile on Seth’s lips and the light coming in from under the door reflecting in Seth’s eyes are all he can see.

Whatever it is, it’s enough.

He skims a hand up the side of Seth’s neck, cupping the back of his head. He hears Seth’s breath hitch, and watches his lips part slightly. “Nate--” Nate leans in slowly enough that Seth could stop him if he wanted to, but all Seth does is suck in another sharp breath, and breathe out a quiet, “ _Oh._ ”

The next thing Nate knows, Seth’s lips are warm and soft under his. It’s nothing like kissing Jo--that was just Jo. This, though. This is _Seth_.

Nate feels the whimper draw itself out of his throat, and leans in closer, dragging his other hand up to cup Seth’s face. Seth reaches out, hands grasping at Nate’s hips, fingers pressing into his skin. For a minute, it feels like Seth might be just as desperate for this as Nate suddenly is.

Then he’s gentling it, backing off until he’s just pressing soft, tiny pecks to Nate’s lips before he draws back altogether.

Nate can hear him swallow.

“Where did that come from?” Seth whispers.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Is this still about…”

Nate hears him swallow again. “About what?”

“What is this about?”

“I just… You’re so… I can’t describe it, Seth. But you make me want to do more. Be better. Be everything that I can be. I want you here, in my life, like this. All the time.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you felt like that?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Nate…” Seth shakes his head, then tilts forward, forehead leaning against Nate’s. For a second, Nate thinks it’s not going to matter. Instead, Seth just whispers, “Please leave, Nate.”

It’s like all the air has gone out of the room. “What?”

“Please leave, Nate.”

Nate’s fingers tighten on Seth’s shoulders, chest squeezing the breath from it. _What did I do what did I do what did I --_ “But--”

“Please.”

His voice is so low that all Nate can do is swallow and nod. “Okay. Just… Call me?”

Seth hums, and Nate knows a dismissal when he hears one. He forces himself not to beg, not to ask why, not to do anything but slide his hands from Seth’s shoulders, and back out of the room.

“I’m sorry.”

_April_

Nate can’t concentrate. He’s an absolute train wreck all through the first round of playoffs, and he knows the guys all want to know why. But whatever he said to Gabe when he came stumbling back from Seth’s place in Nashville seems to have trickled through the rest of the team and they know not to bug him about it.

His phone stays conspicuously silent of texts or phone calls from Seth through their graceless first round exit, and he tries not to let it hurt. He goes back to Halifax, tail between his legs, and crawls into bed with Jo his second night back.

Jo seems to know something’s wrong, and gladly regales Nate with stories Nate already knows from the Mooseheads’ season while Nate tries not to shake apart in his arms. It takes Nate a while to realize when Jo’s stories eventually wear down to silence. He looks up at Jo, blinking slowly.

“What happened, Nate?” he asks softly.

“I did something stupid.”

“Did Seth tell you it was stupid?” Nate blinks up at him, surprised, and Jo snorts. “You’re not exactly subtle about it. What did you do?”

“I kissed him.”

Jo sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh, Nate…”

“I know it was dumb. I just… He’s so _good_ , Jo.”

Jo’s fingers slide into his hair, tugging him in close again. “I know, Nate. But you’ve gotta give things like that time.”

“You and I--”

“Weren’t top four draft picks in the NHL when we started messing around.”

Nate swallows. “I guess.”

“Give it time, Nate. You’re important to him too. Just give it time. You’ll figure this out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Nate. I’m sure.”

_+1--Your Turn_

Nate's watching the game. He sees it when Seth sinks the game winning goal 92 seconds into overtime. He leaps to his feet, shouting and shaking Gabe while his captain laughs. It's everything he's wanted for Seth for years and now it's real. Nashville's made the playoffs, and Seth with them.

He watches as Seth goes screaming into Shea's arms, grabbing at him, both of them jumping up and down on the ice, and tries not to feel jealous that it’s not him in Seth’s arms.

\--

He waits until almost an hour after the post game scrum. Then he waits another hour. And another. Finally, when he can't justify it any longer, he hits send on the text.

_congratulations_

He gets no response for a solid three minutes. Then his phone's ringing and he almost drops it. Then he sees the name and he _does_ drop it.

He scrambles to the floor to grab at it, fumbling to answer the call. "Seth?" He asks, breathless.

Seth doesn't speak for a long moment. Then, " _Nate._ "

Nate closes his eyes, reveling at the sound of Seth's voice in his ear, just for him, when he's been forcing himself to stay away for so long. "Seth. I..." It's too soon, too close, too raw to say what he wants to say, so he just whispers, "I've missed you."

Seth sucks in a sharp breath. He's quiet again before he finally murmurs, " _I've missed you too._ "

Nate feels the smile break out over his face. “You got what… well. What we all want. What we’ve all _always_ wanted.”

“ _Part of it. I’m not all the way there yet._ ”

“But you’re a damn sight closer than you were rookie year.”

Seth’s smile is evident even down the phone line. “ _Yeah. We are._ ”

Nate lets the quiet sit for a few minutes before he ventures a quiet, “Can we try again? Please?”

Seth takes another sharp inhale. “ _Are you ready to try again?_ ”

“I want to be. I’m not… I know it wasn’t my fault. Not really. But I still had to see that you didn’t have everything taken away from you by what happened before I could really accept that.”

Seth’s quiet. “ _Are you sure?_ ”

“No. But if I wait until I’m sure, I’ll be waiting forever. And I don’t want to, Seth. I want to try. Please.”

Nate holds his breath until Seth gives a quiet, “ _Okay, Nate. Let’s try again. I’m not making any promises, but… let’s try._ ”

“That’s all I’m asking.”


End file.
